


Everything Goes Down Easy

by theskywasblue



Category: Inception
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Eames is going soft.  Maybe Arthur is too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Goes Down Easy

**Author's Note:**

> For a-forger-and-a-pointman, with love and biscuits. (Sorry about the cavities...)

“You’ve put on weight.”

Arthur’s hand hesitates over his moleskin. Ink bleeds across the page from the tip of his pen as he raises his head to look at Jankowski’s back across the warehouse. Eames is trying not to look back at him over Jankowski’s shoulder; his cheeks are red.

“Thanks, mate,” Eames mutters, sarcastic. Arthur watches the way his shoulders tighten and knows that he’s trying not to surreptitiously tug at his shirt.

“I just hope your little vacation didn’t make your head soft, too.”

Jankowski is an overly-critical ass, never the sort to waste a kind word when he has a harsh one handy - which Arthur has always known, but it still makes him want to lob a paperweight at the back of Jankowski’s head. 

Eames, though, can give as good as he gets. He flashes Jankowski a vicious smile and says, “Give me a set of plans better than a lot of children colouring with crayons and we’ll just see, won’t we?”

Arthur smirks, and goes back to his notes. He doesn’t think about the incident again, until much later, when he and Eames are alone in the warehouse, after everyone else is gone for the night, and he notices that Eames is walking around with his shirt untucked. 

Eames doesn’t wear his shirt untucked in professional situations. On his off-days he’s a great fan of trashy sleeveless shirts and loose sweats; but professionally, he buttons himself up the same way Arthur does, cleanly projecting only the image he wants other people to see.

So Arthur asks, “Are you alright?”

Eames shrugs, grabbing the eraser to clear off the whiteboard. “Of course.”

Arthur’s not stupid, and Eames isn’t as subtle as he likes to think. “Okay. Should we go grab dinner?”

“I was actually thinking I might go to the gym…”

Arthur barks out a single, sharp, “Ha!”

Eames almost drops the eraser, catching it in midair. “What?”

“Jankowski - are you kidding me?” Arthur slaps his moleskin closed and tucks it into his bag, shaking his head. “Why the hell are you paying attention to him?”

“I’m not.” There’s just a little too much desperation to the way Eames says it; Arthur actually feels bad for him. He walks over to where Eames is standing at the whiteboard, scrubbing at the shadows left behind by the ink and slips up behind him, arms around Eames’ hips, hands on the soft pouch of his stomach. Under his palms, Eames’ stomach muscles contract, almost defensively.

“We should go back to Miami, when this job is over,” Arthur suggests, keeping his tone casual. “I enjoyed myself.”

Eames scoffs. “Well, so did I. But I notice no one commented on your tan.”

The back of Eames’ neck is still sunburned, so Arthur gives it only the gentlest of kisses. “If you want to go to the gym, then go. But don’t do it just because Jankowski has something against well-fed men.”

That earns him a laugh. “And what are your thoughts on ‘well-fed men,” then?”

“I think…” Arthur pushes Eames’ shirt up, so that his hands can touch bare skin, rubbing little circles on the warm, soft flesh. “That I’m happy with whatever makes you happy.”

“Cold, pragmatic Arthur,” Eames muses, reaching back to cup Arthur’s skull, craning his neck to kiss him on the cheek. “Who would ever guess you’re secretly a terrible romantic?”

“Romantic?” Arthur snorts, “I was just going to suggest that we get takeout from that Moroccan place you like and fuck in the shower.”

Eames laughs at that until he’s shaking against Arthur’s chest. It’s a strong, full sound, and it warms Arthur down to the soles of his feet, makes him hide his smile against the back of Eames’ shoulder until he twists free and turns so he can take Arthur’s face in both his hands and kiss him.

Up against Arthur’s mouth, he says, “You really do love me, don’t you, darling?”

And Arthur doesn’t argue.

-End-


End file.
